


Original Sinners

by BestParsley



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, M/M, Mild Angst, Multi, No real plot mostly just fluff, OT3, Reincarnation, Reposting this story because AO3 fucked up, ask me how pissed I am about that later, mild alcoholism, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 10:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19207174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BestParsley/pseuds/BestParsley
Summary: Sypha and Trevor have been reincarnated several times since their first life with Alucard, and he waits for them every time.Just some fluff I’ve been wanting to write.Kind of a songfic??? Lots of chapters will be inspired by songs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story will have a loose plot and probably a lot of just random Drabble chapters, so if you have any suggestions or requests, it open to listening!

River Rock, Colorado was a small suburban metropolitan area just about an hour away from Denver. Sypha Belnades had lived there since she was a young teenager, during her freshman year of high school. That was seven years ago now. She was twenty three now, a college dropout, working odd jobs, but getting by just fine. Or, at the very least, she was getting by.

Shit happens. She dealt with it as best as she could on her own, but sometimes there are things in life that you have to ask for help. Like when your car won’t start and you’re stuck sitting in the parking lot of the fitness center and your phone is dead.

_Shit._ She cursed herself. Usually she was better at keeping a phone charger on her person at all times. _The one time I forget to bring it._ Murphy’s law was a pain in the ass. There were only two other cars in the parking lot, so she crossed her fingers and marched back into the gym and looked around. There were two men. One was the beefy dude that always came in late at night and made really loud grunting noises for everything everyone else to hear. He was always shirtless and flexing his muscles in the mirrors. Probably a nice dude, but he rubbed Sypha the wrong way. Her only other option was the guy who was currently sweating up a fucking storm on the treadmill. He was tall and broad, jogging at a healthy pace as he checked his phone. He was handsome in a more rugged way than the beef-frank who was currently standing in the mirror and checking himself out. She made her decision and head for the treadmills.

To be fair, guys always sweat a lot in the gym. Hell, Sypha herself had to carry around a rag on cardio days just to wipe away the drops of perspiration on her brow. Sweat was normal and something she wasn’t afraid of, but this dude smelled like BO, booze, and ash. She tried not to wrinkle her nose at his stench as she walked up next to him and tapped his shoulder. Apparently he hadn't seen her approach because he tripped over his own feet before catching himself and slowing down the treadmill. He ripped his headphones out and glared at her. _Yikes…maybe the beef-frank would have been a better choice. I bet he at least smells better._

“Yeah?” He asked pointedly.

“Did you drive here?”

“Why?”

“Well, my car won’t start. I think I need to jump start the battery. Could you help me out? I have cables in my trunk.”

He checked the time and looked back at Sypha before sighing and grabbing his stuff. “Yeah. Give me a second. I gotta piss and wipe the treadmill down. I’ll be right out.”

_Wow...what a charmer?_ Sypha raised a questioning eyebrow.

A few minutes later, after Sypha had stepped out to grab the cables, the guy emerged from the front doors of the fitness center with a jacket and sweatpants. He had changed out of his gym clothes and into something a little more suitable for the chilly autumn air.

He pointed to to the blue pickup that was parked on the other side of the parking lot. “Let me move my truck real quick.” He said before jogging over to the truck and parking it directly next to Sypha’s little Buick. When the man hopped out, he grabbed the cables from Sypha and popped both of the hoods, clamping positive to positive and negative to negative. “Did you leave your lights on or something?” He asked with a little less passivity.

“No, my lights are automatic. My car is just a piece of shit.”

“How many miles are on it?”

Sypha rolled her eyes. _What an absolutely guyish thing to ask. Why the fuck would I know how many miles are on my car?_ “I don’t know.”

Pulling head head from on the the hood, the man straightened his back and dusted his hands off on his pants. “My names Trevor.”

“Sypha.”

He looked at her for a moment. “Sypha?”

“A family name.”

“Ah…” he nodded and looked back into the car. “It’ll be a few minutes. Do you mind if I smoke while we are waiting?”

Sypha shrugged. “Be my guest.”

He took out a cigarette and cupped his hand over the flame of his lighter as he held it to the end of the stick. A second later, a puff of smoke clouded from his mouth. Trevor looked at the woman without a gesture, but somehow she knew he was quietly offering her a smoke.

“No thanks. I like my lungs.”

Trevor’s face dropped slightly at the remark and rolled his eyes. “Sorry, mom.” The comment brought a grin to Sypha’s lips. Conversation seemed to come easy between the strangers, like they had known each other for a long time and simply reunited after some time apart.

“I’ve been going to this gym for some time now, and this is the first time I’ve seen you here.” Sypha began as she fiddled with her keys. “Have you been to this gym before?”

The question was innocent enough, but it pulled a smirk from Trevor’s lips. “Are you asking if I come here often?” When he received no response, he shrugged and shuffled over to leaned against the grill of his truck. “I just moved here. I’m originally from the UK, so I haven’t actually been to this gym before. I just got a membership today.”

“That explains the accent.”

“What about yours? You don’t sound like you grew up in the states either.”

“Romania. I moved here with my grandpa and a few close cousins about seven years ago. Went to high school, tried college, realized college fucking sucks and started working.”

Trevor nodded and tilted his head back to blow smoke. He turned to Sypha, flicking the cigarette between his fingers to shake the ash from the end. “I’m looking for work. Have any suggestions for me?”

Beef-frank lumbered through the gym doors with a duffle bag and a water bottle. He waved politely, and Sypha felt a twinge of guilt for judging him without ever really speaking to him, but then that feeling passed and she didn’t care. She leaned against the side of her car and sighed. “Well I kind of work all over the place. I'm registered as a personal trainer here, I do freelance art sometimes, y’know, like I paint murals on walls and stuff. Other than that, I sometimes help teach at dance studio, but none of those things really promise enough money for me to quit my other jobs. What kind of work are you looking for?”

The question made Trevor sag. “Literally anything. I’ve applied at a few bars, but I imagine a nice promising job like that won’t just jump out at me. I don’t really care what the job is. I’ll shovel shit if it pays the rent.”

Sypha hummed. “Well, actually, I might seriously have something that might help. Are you a handy guy?”

“Handy?” Trevor looked skeptical.

“Yeah, you know, like food with tools. Can you do manual labor? Can you fix things?”

“I guess, yeah, as much as the next guy.”

“My friend who owns the dance studio actually needs a few repairs to be done in the studio. It’s kind of an old building and there was a fire in it a few months ago. It was small, but enough to cause damage in one of the black box rooms. Do you think you can fix stuff like that?”

Trevor  shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I’d be willing to try.” He checked his phone and nodded. “Okay, it’s been a couple minutes. Try restarting your car now.”

Sypha did as she was told, sitting in the driver's seat with the door open and turning the key in the ignition. To both of their chagrin, instead of starting, the car did absolutely nothing. It didn’t even sputter like it wanted to start. Trevor waved a hand and ordered her to stop. He checked the cables. Red to red, black to black. All was clear. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. “Has your car had trouble starting lately?”

“Yeah.” Sypha frowned.

“And you’re positive you didn’t accidentally switch your manual lights on?”

“I’m positive.” She assured.

“Well, your battery must be dead.”

One more item on the list of things Sypha really couldn’t afford to deal with right now. She groaned. “Great. My phone is dead, can I borrow yours to call a tow truck?”

Trevor quickly swiped open his phone and pulled up the dial pad. The screen was shattered in the bottom right hand corner and the edges of his screen protector were chipped. His phone had seen better days, but he was broke and didn’t care enough to spend $700 on a new phone. Sypha called the tow company and explained the situation as Trevor unclamped the cables and folded them up nearly. He placed them in the front passenger seat and waited until the call was finished. “They said they could pick it up tomorrow morning. Fantastic.”

“Sorry.”

“No,” she shook her head and ran a hand through the wild wisps of her hair. “Thanks for the help anyway. Can I use your phone to call an Uber or something?”

“Well...I mean...where are you headed to? I don’t mean to be a creep, and I understand if you’re not comfortable with my offer, but I can drive you if it’s not that far.”

In most other situations, Sypha wouldn’t have given it a second thought. She knew better than to trust random people she had just met. She knew better than to accept rides from strangers. Trevor just didn’t feel like a stranger. He felt like she knew him from a long time ago and they had just been catching up. They has only been talking for five minutes, and she already felt like she could trust him. In fact, she trusted him enough that she shrugged. “Why not?” _If he tries anything, I can set his hair on fire._

“You sure?” He asked, stomping out the cigarette butt.

“Yeah, sure. I live about eight miles away. Is that cool with you?”

Trevor nodded and they climbed into the blue truck. It smelled like stale smoke and dust. The fuzzy seats were old and littered with burn marks from cigarettes ashes. It was almost exactly what Sypha has expected, but only, the truck was newer than she imagined. It shouldn’t have been so trashed up for its age. “Yeesh. Maybe clean your car once in a while.”

“Wasn’t expecting company.” Trevor checked his mirrors, seemingly unashamed of the mess. The ride home was pretty short. It was late at night. Traffic was minimal. Trevor drove like an asshole, tailgating people until he got the chance to pass them. When he finally did pass slower cars, he always slammed on the gas as if to say “fuck you, grandma.” as he blew their doors off.

“Take the next left. My building is two blocks down. The one with the paintings all over the front of the building.”

It was hard to miss. The building was covered in colorful images of flowers, flames, animals, and abstract designs. It was like graffiti, but graffiti usually didn’t look so uniform and deliberate. “Interesting place.” Trevor said as he gawked. Sypha made a noise as she unbuckled her seatbelt and grabbed her bag.

“Thanks. I painted it.”

Trevor turned back at her and then back to the building. “You did that?”

The look of pride Sypha wore was wonderful. “I told you, I’m an artist. I do murals and shit.”

They both stared at the building, not really worried about being stopped in the middle of the street. It was an off-road, so there were no cars.

“That’s pretty impressive.” Trevor added, finally tearing away from the art. He fiddled with his radio for a moment. “Hey, uh, what you said about that job earlier—“

“Oh yeah!” Sypha parked up as she opened the door. “I put my number in your phone and sent myself a text. Hope that’s okay. I’ll talk to my friend and let you know what he says. Cool?”

“Yeah, just let me know.” He couldn’t hold back a smile at the fact that _she_ had been the one to offer _him_ her number. Suddenly, she wasn’t just a girl he helped out one night and never spoke to again. She planned on keeping in touch. Trevor felt a little silly for his own excitement, but it had been four months since he moved and he hasn’t made any friends. It’s not like he was a social guy, but it’s not like he didn’t _want_ friends either. He just didn’t really know how to approach people. This new girl had simply pushed past his outer shell and declared her place in his life.

“I will! Goodnight Trevor. Thanks for the ride!”

She was gone before he could say “you’re welcome” but he hesitated in the street, lingering to make sure she made it inside safely. All he could do during the rest of his drive home was try to convince himself to stop smiling like a fucking idiot. No such luck. He was already smitten.

* * *

 

Sypha texted him the very next night.

_My friend said you should stop by the studio sometime, so when you’re free, let’s get coffee and stop in._

Trevor was quick to respond.

_I’m free any day of the week._

After a few minute, his phone buzzed.

_Tomorrow?_

_Yeah_

_Cool._

_Send me your address and I’ll pick you up._

_My car was in the shop today but they said I can come and get it in the morning._

_Okay_

_Sounds like a plan_

_2245 Ginsberg blvd_   
  


The next day, Trevor was up and showered before dawn. He wasn’t an early riser, but he felt uncharacteristically proactive that morning. He had already been ready for over three hours when a text on his phone read _I’m here!_

_I’ll be down in a second._

_Okay_

Sypha’s car looked different in the light of day. It was a clean car and a brand new tree-shaped car refresher dangled from the rear view mirror in the dash. It was the black ice kind, like the ones he used to keep in his own car. The smell was familiar but brought back memories of an unpleasant time in his life. Trevor diverted his attention to Sypha and took into account her clothing. She was wearing black joggers and a baby blue sweatshirt that was cropped short enough to expose her midriff.

“What do you want from Starbucks. I’m paying, since you drove me home the other night.”

“You don’t have to—“ but the look on Sypha’s face when Trevor tried to offer to pay for himself told him to back down. “Um...just get me something that doesn’t taste like ass. Something sweet. I’m not picky.”

“Iced white-chocolate mocha it is, then.”

She ordered herself the same thing on her phone and a third drink, presumably for her friend at the studio. It wasn’t a long drive from Trevor’s apartment complex, actually. The only reason it took them twenty-five minutes to get there was because they stopped for coffee. The building was on the edge of what would be considered “Downtown River Rock” which was where all of the hole-in-the-wall beatnik hipster shit was. It wasn’t a surprise to Trevor that the dance studio was located in the area.

From the outside, the studio was just another brick building. There wasn’t even a sign indicating that the building hadn’t been abandon, safe for a window with the words _Revival Dance Studio_ and the hours of operation. Trevor really didn’t know what to expect. He had never been a studio before. He rarely ever danced, and when he did, it was usually because he was absolutely plastered in some shifty night club with random people grinding against him.

Inside, however, the place was very clearly up and running. The walls were covered with exposed red brick and abstract paintings that looked oddly familiar. There was a small front desk and a hall with four doors, only one of which, was illuminated. Music blared through the open door. It was a familiar song of sorts, something Trevor was sure he had heard in the radio but never cared to listen to. The base was driving with a heavy beat. Sypha headed straight for the room without offering a word to Trevor who was following a few steps behind. He remained in the hallway for a moment, feeling a sort of swelling feeling in his gut like an instinct. Something about the place seemed off.

“Hey!” A male voice called from inside the room and the music paused suddenly. “Oh, you even brought me coffee. You spoil me, Sypha. Thank you.”

The mention of Sypha’s name from the unfamiliar voice drew Trevor’s attention. He remained frozen in the hallway, feeling a little like an eavesdropping child in fear of being caught.

“I figured you’d need a little morning cup of ambition. I brought my friend, he’s—” silence followed. A head of strawberry blond hair peaked out of the door and Sypha raised a curios eyebrow. “Dude? You just gonna stand out here like a weirdo? Come in. Let me introduce you.”

He had no choice really. His feet moved without consent and he didn’t say a word. The room was bright compared to the dim hallway. The floors were linoleum wood. The walls were the same brick that made up the rest of the building, save for one side of the room that was entire taken up by mirrors. Two large set speakers rested on opposite sides of the room and Trevor had to think _Jesus Christ, the base on those things could probably cause an earthquake._ He didn’t really take much time to assess the room, however, because what he was _really_ interested in was the man standing in the center of the room.

He was tall—as tall as Trevor at least—and ghostly pale. Locks of sunshine golden hair were tied back in a bun and a few loose strands of hair framed the man’s face, including a single curl that licked his forehead. His face as angular and smooth, like a model’s, and he wore a black pair of joggers and a ridiculously low cut, white shirt. He was fucking stunning to look at, which made Trevor uncomfortable. His body was long and lean, resembling a marble carving of an ancient roman athlete. Everything about him was inhumanly perfect, which raised every red flag in the back of Trevor’s mind.

“Trevor,” Sypha started. “This is Adrian Tepes. Adrian, this is Trevor.”

There was something in Adrian’s eyes, Trevor decided, as he extended his hand to shake. Something like a predator's gaze. He smirked and shook Trevor’s hand. His skin was cold enough to confirm whatever traces of doubt might have lingered in Trevor’s mind as they exchanged knowing looks.

“A pleasure to meet you, Trevor.”

“Yeah...sure.”

Sypha grimaced at the tension. _Is this some sort of alpha male staring contest? What the fuck did I miss?_ “Uh, Adrian, why don’t you show Trevor studio 3? He’s the one I told you about. The one that might be able to fix it up for you.”

“Sure,” Adrian smiled, sipping coffee from his straw and somehow managing to look malicious while doing it. “Right this way.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a flashback that really has nothing to do with the story and is just meant to add some extra content and fluff. I hope you guys enjoy! I would really really appreciate a comment for feedback! Thanks!

Adrian could smell him the moment they set foot in the building. First, it was just Sypha. Sweet but with a hint of spice; like cinnamon. She always smelled the same. No matter how many times she came back, she was always the same. So, he supposed, Trevor would be that way as well. The smell of Trevor was sharp, musky and warm; like scotch pine. Adrian could always pick up the scent, despite any amount of cologne or deodorant Belmont would pile on to conceal it.

He had been expecting Sypha. He had not, however, been expecting Trevor. It was a pleasant surprise of course, but unexpected nonetheless. There had been no time for Adrian to calm his beating heart. He had just barely had enough time to compose himself from staring stupidly into the mirror at his own reflection when Sypha entered the room. The sight of her sweet face reminded him of where he was and he managed to pull himself together just in time to greet Trevor with a casual smirk.

Somehow, he had managed to play it cool.

“Right this way.” He offered after Sypha suggested showing Trevor around. “I’m sure Sypha has told you about the damage done to the studio in the fire?”

Trevor only nodded in approval as Adrian wedged himself between him and Sypha.

“It should be pretty easy to repair. The damage was pretty superficial and I was looking to remodel the room anyhow. I would do it myself but I’m busy with teaching my classes and such.”

“Right.” Was Trevor’s short response. He didn’t like the way Adrian was speaking in such a casual tone. _This dude is an arrogant son of a bitch, ain’t he?_

The black box studio was exactly as it’s name suggested: a black, cube shaped room. The walls and floors were black. There were no windows. The mirrors and lights were the only things that brightened the room. A lingering smell of smoke and ash burned their noses upon entering the room. It was clear to see where the flames had burned a hole through the walls and ceiling. Exposed pipes and charred insulation made an ugly gash in the interior.

“You don’t have to worry about the electrical work. I’ve already called in an electrician. I just need you to fix the walls and ceiling. The thing is, you’ll have to do a bit of demolition first. The drywall needs to be replaced because of water damage from the sprinkler system, but only the walls and ceiling. Everything else should be fine.” Adrian explained.

Trevor could do it. Sure there would be a little bit of trial and error, but Trevor could do it. Adrian was sure of him. It was the Belmont who was being hesitant, though it wasn’t the task that was daunting. He was hesitant because agreeing to make the repairs meant he would be agreeing to spending days working with this freakishly gorgeous blonde man who he was almost positive was a vampire.

_But then, why is his reflection showing in the mirror?_ Trevor asked himself.

“So, do you think you can handle the job?”

The question was less of a question and more of a challenge, and Trevor Belmont was never one to back down from a challenge. He stepped forward and traced a hand along the wall, glancing up at the hole in the ceiling again. “Yeah. I can’t handle it.” He stated matter of factory. “But let’s talk about pay.”

A humorous breath huffed through Adrian’s nose and he crossed his arm. “Name your price.”

_This dude…_

“Fifty bucks.”

“Total?” Adrian raised an eyebrow along with the corner of his mouth in a crooked smirk.

“No, you dipshit. Hourly.”

_“Trevor!”_ Sypha slapped his arm.

Adrian waved a hand in Sypha’s direction. “He’s alright, Sypha.” He assured. “Is that your final offer?”

“Forty hours a week. Fifty bucks an hour.”

“You have yourself a deal, Belmont.”

They shook hands again. The unsettling lack of warmth made Trevor grimace again, but he gripped Adrian’s hand firmly despite how wrong it felt. There was something instinctively telling him that this was a bad idea, but he refused to back down.

_Wait a second…_

“How do you know my last name?”

Adrian seemed to falter for a moment, before a wicked look crawled over his face. “I can read minds.”

_Oh fuck, can vampires read minds?_

“-and the name that is printed on the back of your shirt, _dipshit._ ” Adrian winked.

Of course, Trevor had completely forgotten he was wearing his late brother’s college hockey sweater. The family name was proudly printed in bold font on the lower back of the old, and heavily worn piece of clothing. This time, Sypha only snickered at the insult. Trevor deserved it after all. _Don’t dish what you can’t take._

“Whatever.” Trevor sighed. “I’ll start Monday.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

* * *

Trevor got shitfaced that night. In fact, he got shit faced every night until the morning of his new job. Yet, as he was still barely sober after puking up the last remnants of alcohol that lingered in his stomach, the last Belmont dressed himself in a pair of heavy denim jeans and an old shirt he wasn’t afraid to get a few rips in. He drove to work, unshowered, unshaven, disheveled as ever, and still a little too drunk to even be legally driving.

He realized shortly after arriving that coming to work hungover was probably the worst thing he could have done. The pounding of loud music coming from the studios sounded almost as if the speakers were inside Trevor’s head. He brought Tylenol but there was little he could do beyond taking a few pills to help alleviate his throbbing migraine.

“Belmont.” A vaguely familiar voice chirped from the doorway of the black box studio. “I’m surprised you actually showed up.”

Adrian was standing there, at the other end of the room, smirking in all of his disgustingly beautiful glory. His hair was tied back in a bun and he was wearing a similar outfit as he was on the first day they met, only these pants were tighter than the joggers and for a moment, Trevor wondered if the man was actually wearing leggings, but decided not to comment.

“You said we have a deal, right?” Trevor climbed down from the ladder he had found in a closet. “You still plan on paying me, don’t you?”

Adrian approached, arms crossed. “Yes, of course.” Then he paused and wrinkled his nose. “You’re not showered, are you?”

“I figured I’d be getting sweaty either way.” Trevor frowned. There was a long moment of silence and Adrian only stared at Trevor with an emotion that looked dangerously close to hunger. “Is there a problem?”

“No.” Was all he received in response before Adrian spun on his heels and marched towards the door. He stopped on his way out only to turn his head over his shoulder and sneer. “Though I would prefer it if tomorrow you showed up sober and bathed as most people do.”

The matter of fact tone Adrian said the last comment with only worsened Trevor’s mood. _Don’t respond, don’t say anything you idiot. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you. He’s your employer now. Don’t fuck this up._ He warned himself and continued to inspect the walls. One wall, the one farthest from the door, would have to be ripped out entirely. That would be the fun part, and Trevor was actually excited to take a sledge hammer to something for a short amount of time, just to get some frustration out of his system, but the thought of swinging something like that around and having to tear down the wall while his head was pounding made him cringe and he decided demolition would have to wait.

_Measurements._ He nodded to himself, sizing up the wall to the ceiling with his hands on his hips. _I’ll take measurements...that’s a thing carpenters do, right? They measure...boards and such...sure we’ll go with that…_

_...I should probably go buy a tape measurer…_

* * *

_Walachia September 1476_

They were halfway through their trek to the Belmont ruins, a freak thunderstorm ripped through the Wallachian plains. One moment, there seemed to be only clouds in the sky. Then next moment, the trio could have sworn that a storm with the fury of Dracula’s wrath himself was pouring down on them. The horses were startled, and the temperature seemed to drop at least twenty degrees when the rain started.

“Alucard, help me tie up the horses!” Trevor shouted over the downpour. “Sypha, you cover the firewood. We need to keep that supply dry.”

As the rain pelted down on them, the strength of the storm grew greater by the minute. Trevor and Adrian were completely drenched by the time they managed to crawl inside the wagon. Sypha did her best to cinch up the end of the canvas cover, but only so much could be done. Rain still poured into the end of the cart as they all removed their outer clothing. They weren’t shy about it. They had bathed together in the river before. Adrian was initially the only one who was worried about propriety, but he soon learned to shut up and just go with the flow. He still blushed when Sypha would remove her robes, but he never commented on it or tried to stop her, knowing he would only earn an exasperated scolding from the woman.

So they all undressed as much as they needed to, but they were still soaked to the bone. Trevor unpacked his fur cloak from a trunk which he purposefully stored it in for just such an occasion. A wet fur cloak wouldn’t be any use to keep them warm, so he tucked it away to keep it dry.

“Trevor; you and Sypha lie down.”

“Aren’t you—“

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” Adrian ordered. “Just lie down and cover up.”

Sypha nestled into Trevor’s side, tucking her head into his shoulder and shoving her fingers in her armpits to keep warm. Trevor wrapped an arm around her side and pulled her close, not bothering to think about whether or not the intimate gesture was welcomed, and flung the cloak over their shivering bodies. Then, Adrian knelt down on his hands and knees and, without any explanation or fanfare, took on the form of a large, white wolf.

Sypha was more shocked than Trevor, but she didn’t say anything. The wolf moved to stand over their legs and paused for a minute before flopping down on their laps like a heavy, warm blanket.

“Won’t you get cold?”

“I’ll be fine.” A disembodied voice echoed from somewhere they couldn’t place.

That was all the convincing they needed. Sypha pulled the side of the cloak over her arms and buried her hands in the thick whiteness of Adrian’s fur before shutting her eyes and leaning against Trevor’s shoulder. The vampire and the hunter both stared out at the storm. It was only three hours past noon, but the world had darker under the storm clouds. They watched as lightning cracked through the sky every few seconds and thunder continuously rolled through the plains. Adrian’s head was on Trevor’s lap and his legs and tail were draped over Sypha.

An hour passed. Trevor was on the verge of sleep when he felt Adrian shift further into his side, stretching out all four limbs with a shiver and a yawn before relaxing once again. The hunter subconsciously ran his fingers through the wolf’s fur and pet the space between his ears, as if he was any other dog. A moment later, Trevor realized his actions and stiffened. _What the fuck am I doing?_ He scowled at his hand, yet something in him possessed him to repeat the motion again. He felt Adrian press his head back into his palm in an invitation to continue. When the hunter did, he rested his head back down on Trevor’s lap and closed his eyes. Sometimes a stray bolt of lightning would crack nearby and the thunder would clap, jolting both the wolf and magician awake. Every time that happened, Trevor would gently caress Sypha’s shoulder with his thumb and rub the space between Adrian’s ears as if to say “ _it’s alright, go back to sleep”_

They had all three fallen asleep by the time the storm had passed. Trevor was the first to wake that time. Sypha was still pressed against his side, snoring softly, and he expected to see the same from the wolf...

...only the wolf was gone and replaced with a sleeping soldier who was still shirtless, still curled up on their laps, but now facing them with an emotionless slumbering face that was far too beautiful for any human to wear.

His golden hair was dulled in color and wet from the rain, his arms still speckled with lingering raindrops, and he was freezing to the touch, more so than normal. Trevor frowned and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Alucard...Alucard wake up.”

He was slow to rouse, and when he did, he looked uncharacteristically dazed. “What’s w-wrong? Demons?”

“No, everything’s fine, but you’re freezing—what the fuck, Alucard, I thought you said you wouldn’t be cold if you didn’t sleep under the cloak.”

“I’ll be f-f-fine.” The shivering set in as he muttered his words, making his voice shake. “You and S-S-Syph-pha needed to keep warm m-more than I d-did.” His breath was hitching and he was shivering was violently.

“Shut the fuck up and get under the cloak, you tit.”

_“Tit?”_

“Shut up, I just woke up. My creativity isn’t really flowing yet.”

It was still dark out, probably still in between late night and early morning. Adrian did as he was told and slipped into the space which Trevor offered between him and Sypha. The magician stirred and sat up. “What’s going on?” She asked as Adrian shuddered at the sudden warmth. The contact of both Sypha and Trevor’s body heat together was like opening the door to a furnace. Heat buzzed where their bodies touched, only causing the vampire to shiver even more violently.

“Our little messiah over here nearly froze to death during the storm.”

“I w-wouldn’t have f-f-froze to d-de—“

“Shut the fuck up, you smartass. You’re the one who sat out in the freezing rain.”

“I had a coat of fur—“

“Not when I woke you didn’t. You’re soaking wet. Just shut up and let us warm you.”

“Here.” Sypha hunkered down and wrapped her arms completely around Adrian’s trembling shoulders. An orange glow in her hands radiated heat throughout the vampire’s entire body and he could do little to suppress a moan at the sensation. “Better?”

“Y-yes.” His teeth still chattered.

“Wrap him up, Trevor.”

The hunter flung the side of cloak over Adrian, tucking the edge of it tightly at his side. They were practically spooning but no one dared challenge to say anything about it. Adrian simply closed his eyes and allowed the residual body heat to transfer into his own as sleep possessed him once again. When he woke the next time, he was simply curled up with his head resting on Sypha’s chest. The sun was up, and the wagon was moving. Trevor was riding in the front, fully clothed once again and holding the reins in his hands as he whistled a quiet and swooping tune. Sypha was still asleep.

Comfort made his eyes heavy once more and he fell asleep a final time before waking again. That time, he woke alone, but warmed completely and wrapped snugly in Trevor’s fur with Sypha’s robes folded up as a pillow under his head. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw the hunter and scholar with their backs facing him.

_Thank you..._


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this is so late guys, but I wrote myself into a hole. Not sure how to get myself out but here’s what I managed to crank out. Hope you guys enjoy

_ 7:30 a.m _

Sypha slammed her hand down on the top of her alarm clock. It was an old one her grandfather had given her. It was the bane of her existence, but it reminded her of home, so she still used it despite the god awful beeping sound it made for an alarm. 

Her hair was tousled and oily from sleep, sticking out in wild directions as she tumbled out of bed. Her first stop in the morning was never the shower or the toilet. Sypha didn’t even enter the bathroom before starting a pot of coffee. Her morning brew always came before all else. 

She spent less than fifteen minutes in the bathroom each morning, so long as she didn’t plan on shaving. Sypha was efficient. She brushed her teeth and washed her face in the shower, since washing her hair didn’t take too long. Once she was done, she wrapped herself in a towel, poured a cup of coffee and quickly got dressed, all while her hair was wrapped in a towel. 

She spent the rest of her time in the bathroom fixing her hair, putting on mascara and filling in her eyebrows because apparently blonde eyebrows only seemed to show up naturally on one person in the world and that person was Adrian Tepes.  _ He doesn’t count, though.  _ She grumbled inwardly as she hurriedly penciled in her left brow.  _ He’s inhumanly beautiful.  _

By 8:05 she was slipping on her shoes and chugging down the rest of her coffee before pouring another cup in her thermos.  _ Purse. Keys. Sunglasses…what else? _

The memory that her bank account was running low struck her suddenly.  _ Shit. Lunch will have to be quick. _ She ran back into the kitchen and opened the fridge before resigning to the fact that she would have to settle for three granola bars and whatever she could afford from the vending machine.

And just like that, Sypha was out the door, hopping in her little Buick. Traffic was heavy and she needed to be to work thirty minutes earlier than usual. All she could think to herself, as she pulled out onto the freeway ten minutes later than she would have liked, was how badly she needed to get a different job. 

_ This blows. _

* * *

 

_ 8:23 a.m _

Trevor was startled awake by the blaring sound of his alarm going off right next to his ear. His phone screamed at him until he pressed the home button, groaning as he checked the time. He had pressed snooze three times and the adrenaline of being startled awake, pulsing through his veins, quickly died down.  _ Fuck...caffeine… _

He stumbled into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. Only three cans of Red Bull were left, and he would need at least two of them to get him to work. 

“Looks like I’m going to the store tonight.”

The satisfying crack of an energy drink opening had a Pavlovian effect on Trevor. He downed half of it before he even reached the shower. Getting ready for work didn’t take much time. He dressed as he always did; in something he could get dirty, and towel dried his hair before running a comb through it and brushing his teeth. Toothpaste tastes horrible with red bull, but that was the price he was willing to pay in order to feel a little less like a zombie in the morning.

With his wallet, phone, keys, and his second energy drink of the morning, Trevor jogged down the steps of his apartment complex to the parking lot where his truck sat. It roared to life when he turned the key in the ignition and the radio blasted, startling him wide awake once more. “Fucking hell.” He winced, quickly turning down the stereo. As he fiddled with the radio, the clock on his dashboard caught his attention.  _ 8:45 a.m _

“Not too shabby.” He smirked to himself before spinning off out of the parking lot. “Look at me, holding down a 9 to 5 job.”

* * *

_ 9:00 a.m. _

Adrian had woken up at 5:00 a.m and arrived at the studio at 6:00. He was trying to come up with choreography that would be impressive for the audience of his middle school aged groups, but was struggling to keep the moves simple enough for awkward pubescent teens to wrap their brains around. 

It had been two and a half weeks since Trevor had started the project of repairing the black box studio. Judging by the progress the man had made so far, it would be quite some time before the walls were finished, but Adrian didn’t mind. The more time he spent at the studio, the better. 

Sypha, on the other hand, was spending less and less time in his dance classes. He missed seeing her face, but they kept in touch as often as possible. They hadn’t known each other for long, only around six months, but they were quickly becoming closer and closer friends. Soon enough, Adrian was confident that they would be comfortable enough together for him to make a move on her. 

_ Ew, that makes me sound like I’m grooming her.  _ He physically grimaced in the mirror and the thought caused him to stop in the middle of an eight count. He shook the thought from his mind and tried to focus once again, but he continued to misstep. 

He groaned, marching over to the speakers to pause the music.  _ Jesus, these two are gonna become a problem if I can’t focus on work. _ He frowned.

Much to his delight, when Adrian lifted his phone, he was greeted by a notification from none other than the speaker magician herself. He smiled at the sight of her name across the banner on his screen. 

_ I’m sorry I haven’t made it to classes lately. Work has me running around like a dog. _

_ I want to grab coffee sometime _

_ My treat  _

_ :) _

Adrian typed back eagerly.

 

_ Don’t worry about it! _

_ And, I’d love to _

_ Name a time and place _

 

_ How about Saturday afternoon, at Double Shots? _

 

_ It’s a date ;) _

 

_ See you then! _

It was right around then when Adrian heard the front door of the studio open. Classes didn’t start until 11:30, which meant Trevor had actually showed up on time that morning.

_ Should I give him shit? _

He heard Trevor toss an empty can into the trash bin and belch loudly. Adrian wrinkled his nose.

_ Yeah, I should give him shit. _

He quickly ducked his head out of the room, peering around the corner.

“Well look at you, showing up on time like a responsible adult. I was just starting to convince myself that you couldn’t tell time. You’re full of surprises.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s no way to speak to your employer.” Adrian pouted. 

“Fuck off,  _ sir _ .”

“Much better.”

The dhampir only received a middle finger in response. Trevor had tried to hold back from snarking back when his new “boss” gave him shit for literally anything he did, he read had, but he quickly learned that such a battle was futile to begin with. Besides, he was pretty sure the bastard actually enjoyed their tiffs.

* * *

_ 9:07 a.m. _

Trevor had only been granted a few minutes of peace before he sensed the presence of someone standing in the doorway. With a defeated sigh, he turned around and crossed his arms, trying hard to ignore how the Adrian’s hair fell like golden waterfalls over his shoulders and neck, and how his toned legs looked so long and graceful in his tight pants and-  _ am I drooling?  _ Trevor frowned.

Adrian wasn’t even actually looking at him, but he had his head buried in his phone, typing away as he walked casually over to the ladder on which Trevor sat. He was smiling at his screen.  _ He’s texting Sypha isn’t he? _

“Can I help you?”

Like the pompous bastard he was, Adrian held up one finger to say ‘ _ just a second’,  _ and continued typing for a minute before finally looking up. Trevor was irked out of his mind, but did Adrian care?  _ Of course not.  _ He had done that specifically to piss Trevor off.

“I wanted to stop in and ask if you were free on Saturday.”

Trevor shook his head and turned back to the wall. He was penciling in lines where he needed to put in new screws and nails on the structure boards. “Look man, I know I haven’t been exactly  _ punctual,  _ but I’ve been working my ass off on this project, and I’m just one guy. I really can’t come into work on the weekend, I—“

“I’m not asking you to work, Belmont.” Adrian came around the front of the ladder to step into Trevor’s view. He was smiling, but he looked like he was about to dare Trevor to do something, like a child with a mischievous plan.

“Okay...then...why do you want to know if I’m free?”

“I want to take you out for coffee.” 

Trevor narrowed his eyes. 

“What?”

“I want to take you out for coffee on Saturday.” Adrian repeated. “Sypha is coming with.”

_ What...is this some sort of trap? Is this mother fucker trying to lure me someplace shady so he can suck my blood or something?  _

“Uh-“

“I’d like to get to know you better.” Adrian interjected. “Sypha says she wants you to come too.”

_ Sypha wants me to come? _

“Did she invite me?”

“No, I did.”  _ Oh, what?  _ “So are you free or what?”

Trevor was good at making split second decisions. He revered himself as being quick on his feet, but at that moment, his tongue felt tied and all he could see was the ridiculously attractive guy asking him to go get coffee with a woman whom was also incredibly good looking. He felt the gears in his brain stutter for a second or two, earning a coy smirk from Adrian who was about two and a half heads beneath him while Trevor was standing on the third rung of the ladder. 

“Uh...well...where?”

“Double Shots, it’s about twenty minutes from here. I can text you the location if you want. You have my number saved in your phone, right?”

“Well...I, uh-“

“You’re kidding me.” Adrian frowned. “I’m your employer and you don’t even have my number saved in your phone?”

The world started coming back to Trevor and he remembered who he was talking to.  _ If this mother fucker thinks he can just—  _ “Listen, dude, you didn’t hire me to be your buddy—“

“No, I didn’t,” Adrian bit back, jabbing an accusatory finger into Trevor’s thigh. “But I didn’t hire you to be my enemy either, and it's just common decency to at least keep your employer’s number in your phone in case they call you. You know, because maybe you’re  _ late  _ or you  _ didn’t show up to work,  _ or maybe I just need to get a hold of you for some  _ god forsaken reason _ . You know, because that’s how things normally work.”

After years of working odd jobs, jumping from city to city, and suffering under countless employers, Trevor knew when to back down from a fight. Usually, it just wasn’t worth it. Most often, he just didn’t care enough. This was one of those times.

“Jesus, fine.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the contacts app. “Here. Put your number in.”

Adrian did, with as much attitude as possible, and handed back the device. “Be at Double Shots by noon on Saturday. Sypha and I are meeting there.”

“Wait you’re still— _ why do you still want me to come?” _

It was like every time Adrian flashed his petty little smirk, he was hiding something, but he was still stupidly gorgeous and infuriating to look at. “You’re still a fool as ever, aren’t you, Belmont?”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“See you Saturday.” 

And just like that, Trevor was left to stew in his own thoughts. He heard the music start back up again from the studio and he recognized the song as a county classic.  _ 9 to 5  _ by Dolly Parton. 

_ Cryptic-ass, blood-sucking mother fucker...What the fuck is with him?...Is he trying to enthrall me? Has he already enthralled Sypha?  _

In the end, deep down, Trevor wouldn't admit that a tiny part of him was excited for Saturday. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am on a strict “comment only” diet, so if you would be so kind as to feed me, I would greatly appreciate it   
> Thanks for reading!!


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